Evolution of a Curmudgeon
by Mujermaravilla
Summary: Money and power, that's all that ever mattered to Mr. Burns or was it? Suddenly a life changing event challenges everything he's ever known and makes him see life and his assistant, Smithers, with new eyes. Will this be enough to change a greedy old man?
1. The Clarity in a Commotion

Evolution of a Curmudgeon-by Mujermaravilla

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and Fox. This is just my interpretation of that world.

* * *

It seemed like another boring day. Burns looked at the monitors with great discontent. His workers were slacking off as usual. Lenny and Carl fighting for the last cup of coffee, a couple of trainees messing with the barrels of toxic waste and of course the same plump man asleep at the control room in sector 7G. "Useless! All of them!" He gritted his teeth.

He turned away in disgust and looked out the window. He could still remember how things were 40 years earlier when he had first opened the plant. Springfield had received him with open arms, the people excited to have their own source of reusable energy. He was the future and his workers were all too eager to get to work at his plant. Work ethic was high and profits…even better. He closed his eyes and could still see the young faces of his workers filled with promise and determination; the impeccably efficient, Waylon J. Smithers, Sr., at his side. "Ah the promise of money and power" he sighed. "Those were better days."

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! Burns jumped out of his chair at the sound of the siren and tumbled on to the floor.

"Don't touch that! Get away from there!"

Burns raced towards the sound of Smithers's stressed voice that came from the monitors. "What have these idiots done now?!" His voice trembled with anger.

The trainees had knocked over a barrel of toxic waste which had started a domino effect. He watched in horror as the barrels tumbled over, each one taking at least another down with it. "Oh dear, what do I do?" His anger dissolved into paralyzing fear. He thought about the escape pod but it had yet to be replaced since the last incident at the plant. The closest way out was the main exit. There was no other option but to fight his way through the panicked mob of employees.

Burns flew down the stairs with an agility he hadn't known in years and was on the factory floor in less than three minutes. He pushed employees left and right as he advanced towards the main exit.

"Look out!" Smithers shouted. Burns turned just in time to see one of the trainees trip over another employee who had fallen in the commotion. The man flew forward and knocked into a barrel that, unfortunately, was the bottom component of an enormous pyramid that began to tremble violently.

"Every man for himself!" Burns yelled as he started to flee.

Suddenly Burns was struck by a vision of the late Waylon Sr. The man looked towards his son with grave concern then back at Burns before vanishing. Burns stood frozen for a second as Waylon, Sr.'s last heroic act and his baby son flashed before his eyes. He looked back towards Smithers who had his foot stuck between two barrels.

"Smithers, you incompetent buffoon, move!" Burns rushed towards him as a barrel toppled over.


	2. Mr Burns's Epiphany

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and FOX. This is my interpretation of that world.

Chapter 2

* * *

"Please! Please! Just let me see him!" Smithers begged at the nurse's feet.

"Mr. Smithers calm yourself. He's in surgery right now. I promise I'll let you know how he's doing…on my next break." The nurse said apathetically as she looked at her watch and walked away.

"Get a hold of yourself Mr. Smithers. I'm sure he'll be alright." Homer assured him. "Right guys?"

"Uh yeah…sure," mumbled Lenny, Carl and a few others.

"Hey how many of you are betting that the old geezer bites the dust? Come on, hand it over." Lenny taunted as he held his hand out towards his co-workers.

"So, um... Why do you care so much for Mr. Burns?" Homer asked. "He treats you worse than any of us and you're his assistant.

"Smithers remained quiet for a moment, his hands still over his eyes. Then he stood slowly, wiping away tears. "Well… I've known him my whole life and despite the way he treats me, I consider him my best friend. Sure he can be cruel at times but deep down inside, he's the best man I know. Plus, he saved my life! Oh that should be me in there instead of him!" He cried as he fell to his knees once again.

"Mr. Smithers I know you're desperate but, believe me, you could do a lot better." "What?" Smithers looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and offense. "Not me. Don't look at me." Homer added quickly as he put his hands up and stepped back.

Suddenly Dr. Nick came stumbling out of the operating room. "I…couldn't do it."

Smithers rushed over to Dr. Nick as he collapsed, Lenny held him up as best he could.

"What happened Dr. Nick?" Smithers asked as the tears welled in his eyes.

"I did my best but I couldn't save…"

"No!" Smithers cried out as he buried his head in his hands, sobbing.

"…his nose!" Dr. Nick finished as he placed the back of his hand over his forehead and leaned his head back.

"What?!" everyone shouted.

"Sorry, I've always wanted to deliver news about a patient like they do in the soap operas, but he's alive, thanks to me."

Lenny pushed him away in disappointment. "Awww." He sighed as he passed the betting money back into the awaiting hands of his coworkers.

"Can I see him now?" Smithers demanded in an annoyed tone. "Yes. But be warned, it may not be such a pretty picture" Dr. Nick replied with wide eyes.

"Eh… Can't be worse than before," Lenny offered dismissively.

Smithers ignored the comments and rushed past Dr. Nick.

"Burns, Burns!" the voice echoed as Burns walked through a hallway. Images of his life flashed by, his abandonment of his parents, his ruthless grandfather, Bobo. Finally he saw his triumphant arrival to Springfield. The enormous crowds cheered with delight.

"You did it Monty!" Waylon, Sr. congratulated him.

All of a sudden the crowds disintegrated into ash. Everything imploded into a raging fire, his plant, his office, his MONEY. He gasped as the fire destroyed everything he had ever accomplished. He looked around, recoiling into a corner. "Smithers? Smithers! Where are you!?" His shouts reached out but it was all in vain.

"You did it!" he heard Waylon, Sr.'s voice say. Only this time it was more of an accusation than congratulation.

Burns screamed. It was all too much for him, he finally understood everything.

"Mr. Burns!" The voice called out once more.

Burns shot up and looked around.

"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked.

Burns rubbed his temple. "Uhh… I have a horrible headache. Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. There was an accident at your plant. Fortunately you were the only one that was hurt. Uh… that is…Fortunately you were only hit with the lid of a toxic waste barrel. He handed Burns a mirror. "Your nose took the worst of it, but it should heal in about a week."

Burns looked at the little stub that protruded from a bandage where his original nose once was. "Oh I see."

BANG, BANG. "Please doctor, let me in!" cried a shrill voice from outside.

"What is that?" Burns asked.

"We have a few patients here that tend to leave their room and wander around. But don't worry, they're not dangerous." The doctor laughed. "…at least not most of them." The doctor opened the door to find a distressed Smithers standing there. "Ah you must be Mr. Burns's assistant."

"Mr. Burns you're alive!" Smithers cheered. "You saved my life. You really do care about me!"

Burns stared in confusion as the man rushed to his side and hugged him. He pulled away from the embrace. "You're not Waylon. Doctor, who is this man?"

"Sir it's me Waylon Smithers, your assistant." "Nice try young man." Burns shot back. "I admit you do look an awful lot like him when he was younger, but I know Waylon and you're not him."

Smithers frowned and looked at his boss with grave concern. "Doctor, can I speak to you outside?"

"How long is this amnesia going to last?" Smithers asked as they stepped into the hallway.

"I'm not sure." The doctor responded. "I didn't expect this to happen." He paused for a moment and stared at the floor as if the answer was written in the tiles. "Nevertheless, I want to keep him here for observation. Try to remind him of some things. It would be good to know to what extent his memory was affected by the accident."

Smithers nodded.

"What are you doing talking with my patient's friend?"

Smithers and the doctor turned to see Dr. Nick standing with clenched fists.

"Patient? You nearly left this man without a nose. You aren't even supposed to be here now. You're on leave." The older doctor shot back.

Dr. Nick looked away. "Oh yeah," he said as he walked off.

"Look, I need to attend to some other matters. You go ahead and go back inside. But go easy on him; we don't want to confuse him anymore than he already is." With that the doctor sped off in the direction where Dr. Nick had left.

Smithers knocked gently on the door. "Sir, can I come in?"

"Oh it's you again." Burns stated in disappointment. "You man, whoever you are. Do you know where Smithers is?"

Smithers closed the door and walked over to Burns's bedside, pulling a picture out of his wallet in the process. "You mean him sir?" Smithers asked softly as he handed him a picture of his dad.

"Yes, yes. This is him. Where is he? I must see him at once."

"He's dead sir," Smithers sighed.

"What?" Burns shouted. "You killed him, didn't you? And then you tried to impersonate him." He narrowed his eyes and pointed at the younger man. "How dare you come here and flaunt your despicable deeds in my face. You'll pay for this."

"No sir." Smithers interrupted. "He died in a nuclear plant accident years ago. He was my father."

"Waylon, Jr.? Of course!" The old man sat up in his bed. "No wonder, you're the spitting image of him."

A small smile spread across Smithers's face. "Thanks sir."

"But how can this be? Why, you were just a baby the last time I saw you. You couldn't even talk yet."

"Well, I've grown since then sir." The younger man replied with relief. "The accident must have caused you to lose your memory."

"Yes I suppose so." Burns stated in confusion. "Is he really dead?"

"I'm afraid so sir." Smithers replied somberly.

Burns fell silent and turned towards the window, deep in thought. After a moment he looked back at Smithers, his face impossible to read. "Well it's great to see his son become a man, even if I don't remember any of it." He stuck out his hand and Smithers shook it.

" _Yes, I got through to him,"_ he thought to himself.

During the next few days Smithers visited Burns constantly. He told him stories about his childhood, brought photos of the plant and updated him on his workers. Burns would always wonder off to the topic that everything had changed. He would tell Smithers countless stories about his father and the work they had accomplished together. Smithers could not have been more grateful, for he knew that Mr. Burns would have never told him these stories before the accident. He absolutely refused to talk about Waylon, Sr. Hearing him now it was clear how much respect and appreciation he had for his father. This was a side that Smithers always hoped he would see from his ruthless boss.

"Yes all the nuclear physicists turned me down but once I met your father we dominated the competition. We had Springfield running on nuclear energy in two months flat…" Burns bragged.

Smithers smiled, he would have never wished for the accident to happen but he was so glad for the doors it had just opened.


	3. The Past Remembers

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and FOX. This is my interpretation of that world. Enjoy and comment!

* * *

The next morning Smithers dragged himself up the stairs. Life had become so dull at the plant since his boss's accident. He opened Mr. Burns's office and walked in as the phone rang.

"Maybe it's Mr. Burns!" He exclaimed as he reached for the phone. A hand suddenly shot out from the chair that faced the window.

"I'll get that." Mr. Burns stated calmly. "Hello? Yes of course. Send it off immediately." He turned around and Smithers was stunned at his appearance. He had a small button nose, half the size of his original one. Yet, what surprised him the most was what he saw on his head now that the bandages had been removed.

"Sir, your hair…it's growing!" He commented in amazement.

"Hmm? Ah, yes. The doctor said it was an effect from direct contact with toxic waste. For some reason it causes hair growth for some people, who knew."

"Well, what would you like me to do now sir?" Smithers asked eagerly.

"Just return to your everyday duties. I'll call you in here for an assignment that I have for you later today," Burns responded without bothering to look up from his paperwork.

"Yes sir!" He rushed out the door. Mr. Burns looked up and observed as Smithers left.

"Huh…. No that can't be," He said as he shook his head.

An hour later Burns stepped outside of his office to get some fresh air and nearly tripped over his assistant who was bent over on the floor.

"Waylon, what are you doing on the ground? I nearly fell to my death!"

"Sorry sir," Smithers scrambled to move out of the way. "I was just making sure to get the stains out, just like you asked."

"I never said this. Why on earth would I ask you to do that?"

"Well you always have me clean the floors once I finish cleaning the urinals…Unless you need something else." He uttered meekly.

Burns stepped back and looked at a picture that he had just put up of himself and Waylon, Sr. when they had first opened the plant. _"What have I done?"_ He thought to himself. His best friend had died entrusting him his only son and this is how he had been treating him? He thought back to that baby boy who had always held out his arms when he saw him. He then turned back to see that boy, now a man, scrubbing the hallway of the plant his father had helped construct.

"Waylon, drop that sponge and get up. This is no longer your job."

Smithers looked up at him, fear collecting in his eyes. "Please Mr. Burns, don't fire me. I promise I can do better!"

"Stop groveling man and get to your feet!" Burns grabbed his assistant's arm and pulled him up. "I know you can do better, and you will." He led the younger man into his office and pulled a file from his desk.

"Sir, I don't think you should lift heavy things, it could be bad for your health." Smithers commented, baffled by his elderly boss's new found strength.

"Never mind that," Burns replied dismissively. He scanned the file and wrote a few things in it before placing it in front of his assistant.

Smithers opened it and nearly fell out of his chair when he read the content.

 **"** **This document calls for the temporary transfer of Waylon J. Smithers, Jr. to the 2** **nd** **Division Nuclear Plant located in the Caribbean."**

"But sir I can't accept this. Please don't send me away from you."

"I want you to prepare yourself Waylon. You leave in a month."

"Sir please, I can't..."

"You can and you will!" Burns snapped. He looked down to regain his composure. Suddenly he noticed a small drop of water, which was joined by another one that splashed on to his desk from above. He looked up to see his assistant with tears streaming down his face. He sighed and looked away with discomfort. "Waylon, think about it. It's a new opportunity. If you stay cooped up here in this plant with me, you'll never experience life. Go out and take on the world man, find success, fall in love. When was the last time you felt that so called emotion?"

"Well actually sir…"

"Exactly," Burns interrupted him. "Don't be like me Waylon. Don't let your life pass you by and find yourself paying someone to keep you company."

"But sir I …"

"Don't get me wrong." Burns interrupted once more. "Money is everything, but even I have to admit that there are two things money could never do." He turned to face the window.

"What's that sir?"

"Keeping people quiet long term. Of course there are more permanent solutions to that if need be." He grumbled as he clenched his fist.

"Uh…sir?" Smithers called nervously.

"Hmm? Ah yes." Burns's angry expression dissolved into a melancholy gaze. "Second, it can't buy you a friend that isn't already loyal."

"Waylon, do you know why those nuclear physicists turned me down?"

"Why sir?" Smithers asked in obedience.

"At the time I was a penniless fool with a crazy dream. My grandfather had lost his mind by the end of his life and he died in…uh…mysterious accident, but all that deluded windbag left me with was the clothes on my back and a note with a few choice words I… rather not repeat." Burns envisioned the note's content.

 _"It's all going to charity."_

"Anyhow, I traveled the world searching for a way to get back into the nuclear business. I had plans for building a plant that was capable of powering an entire city but without cash no one took me seriously, that is until I met your father."

 **Flashback Pt. 1**

(June 1930) A long haired, 29 year old Burns made his way through the crowd, carefully observing who was drunk and who was sober. It was the annual Nuclear Science Innovation Convention and he had to play his cards just right if he was going to get what he wanted.

"Well if it isn't little Charles Burns."

Burns shivered with discomfort as his supervisor stumbled over to him. The old man was barely hanging on to his balance due to the state he was in.

"It's Montgomery." Burns grumbled.

"Quiet!" The old man snapped. "You're lucky I hired you. Your grandfather told me not to but I hated that slime so much I wanted to spite him. I just wish he hadn't died before seeing his grandson working for the competition." He cackled grotesquely, making Burns step backwards to spare his nose from the old man's horrid breath.

"Mr. Evenson!" called a voice from behind. Burns turned to see a tall, handsome young man in an elegant black suit. His thick light brown hair was cleanly tousled and he wore glasses that were the epitome of sophistication. "I'm so glad to see you could make it." He turned slightly towards Burns. "Play along man, smile." He advised under his breath.

"Waylon! Finally, a man who's done something with his life, unlike these other parasites." He glared in Burns's direction. "Charles, I want to introduce you to Dr. Waylon J. Smithers. He's the head of the nuclear engineering department and the best damned nuclear physicist in the country no doubt!" The old man stumbled over to the table next to them and attempted to pour a glass of wine, spilling most of it on the floor in the process. "Charles, you imbecile! This is all your fault!" He broke the glass and charged towards Burns with the broken shard in his hand.

Burns gasped. He put his arms over his face and braced for the attack.

"Miiister Evenson!" Waylon, Sr. exclaimed as he quickly grabbed the old man's arms and restrained him. "That gentleman over there is a potential investor who wants to learn more about our company's work. I think you're the perfect person to reel him in." Mr. Evenson looked over at the man that Waylon, Sr. pointed out.

"Right you are Waylon." He slurred. "You let me know if this worthless scum makes any other mistakes." He turned and wobbled his way over to a man in dark sunglasses that waved at him.

"Are you mad?" Burns stressed. "That man is drunk out of his mind!"

"Oh that's not really an investor, don't worry." Waylon, Sr. assured him. "He's Mr. Evenson's bodyguard. They hire a different one every event to watch over him just in case. He tends to get a little violent when he drinks."

Burns looked over as his supervisor attempted to strangle the so-called investor.

"You alright there man?" Waylon, Sr. asked calmly as he walked past him and served himself a drink.

"Yes, I'm fine!" Burns shot back bitterly. He quickly shoved his trembling hands behind him to hide how startled he really was.

"Ah, don't feel too bad about it. He usually ends up assaulting at least one person each event." Waylon, Sr. said matter-of-factly.

"So…um...You're a nuclear physicist?"

"Yeah," Waylon, Sr. sighed "Work can get a little mundane though."

"I know what you mean." Burns groaned. "I was just hired as a financial assistant. It's not the same as running an industrial plant but one day I'll be powering entire cities." He clenched his fists. "I didn't work at my grandfather's plant for over fifteen years in order to give up on nuclear energy just because he sold it!"

"Wait!" Waylon, Sr. exclaimed as he looked up from his untouched drink. "You're Wainwright Burns's grandson?"

"Unfortunately," Burns responded bitterly.

"Then you're just the person to help me."

"What do you mean?" Burns looked at him with suspicion.

"They're so afraid of nuclear physics here that they have our hands tied in regards to how much nuclear energy we can work with." The young man looked around to see if anyone was hearing. "But I've been working on a nuclear reactor outside of this company. It's just a prototype but soon it could have the ability to harness massive quantities of nuclear energy. Problem is that they would never support that kind of advancement in nuclear engineering here."

"Why not?" Burns managed, stunned by what he was hearing.

"It's the Depression. They don't have interest in investing in something they don't feel they could use or control." Waylon, Sr. explained. "But they don't see what this could mean. We could finally have our own source of reusable energy. Thousands of homes, hospitals, schools would be easily powered. Think about how many lives would be changed." The young physicist's eyes beamed as the words left his mouth.

"Lives…uh…right." Burns uttered hesitantly. "By the millions!" He grinned and tented his fingers.

"Yes… well, I can develop this project but I need someone with experience in running a plant to help me establish this business wise. So what do you say?"

Burns stared at Waylon Sr. in amazement. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. "Uh…yes. You've got yourself a deal my good man." He held out his hand

"Great…um Charles is that right?" Waylon, Sr. asked as he shook Burns's hand.

"It's Montgomery actually but you can call me Monty." Burns stated with a triumphant smile.

"Alright then, Monty." He raised his glass in the air. "To progress!"

"Don't drink that!" Burns cried as he smacked the glass out of the young physicist's hand, sending it crashing to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Waylon, Sr. demanded.

"I don't think that's safe to drink Waylon." Burns uttered nervously. "I suspect it's been tampered with judging by the erratic behavior tonight."

"But Charles" a voice cried from behind. "Didn't you bri…"

"Sir! How are things going with that investor?" Burns interrupted Mr. Evenson. "See what I mean this man doesn't even know what he's saying anymore." He whispered to Waylon, Sr. "Shut it, you old fool!" He hissed into his supervisor's ear.

"I'm not that drunk Charles." Mr. Evenson grumbled.

 **End of Flashback Pt. 1**

"Ah, I was fired the very next day, but then something remarkable happened," Burns explained.

"What sir?" Smithers asked eagerly, his eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"I thought it was all over Waylon. Little did I know that good fortune had smiled on me."

 **Flashback Pt. 2**

Young Burns walked through the Nuclear Research Center for the last time. He sighed as he looked at the box of belongings in his arms. "Well it's after hours so at least no one's here to jeer me," he whispered to himself.

"Monty."

Burns jumped at the sound of the voice dropping everything on the floor.

"Shhh! Calm down it's me."

Burns looked up the hallway to see Dr. Waylon J. Smithers standing a few feet away. The young man wore a long lab coat that reached a bit above his ankles and a badge that displayed his name, title and picture. Burns found it difficult to believe that someone so young could already be an established nuclear physicist. He was easily 5 years younger than him, give or take a year.

"Waylon, what are you doing here?" he asked as he scrambled to pick up the items that had fallen out of the box.

"Mr. Evenson told me that you'd be coming in to pick up your last check after hours so I came looking for you." He paused. "Is that a box of the company's office supplies?"

"No!" Burns blurted out, trying his best to sound offended. "It's just some stuff I had left in my office. You know…family photos and such." He quickly grabbed a stapler and threw it into the box that was imprinted with the words **PROPERTY OF THE NRC**.

"Forget I asked." Waylon uttered as he punched in the code to the alarm system. "Come on, I have something to show you.

" Uh Waylon, you do realize that I was just fired right?"

"Yes and?" Waylon, Sr. replied dismissively without looking up from the alarm panel.

"Oh nothing." Burns called out coolly. _"This misguided fool doesn't know that I'm broke without this job_. He thought to himself. _"He probably thinks I have a fortune to contribute to his project. Yes, I'll just string him along until I can get my hands on whatever he's working on. He'll never see it coming!"_ "Excellent! Wa hahaha hahahaha!"

"Monty!" Waylon, Sr. shouted. "Save your psychotic episode for another time, we have to go. You don't want to know what would happen if the alarm were to set while we were still in here." He took off down the hall.

"I know. They'd send the police down here." Burns panted as he tried to keep up.

"No worse. They'll release the hounds." Waylon, Sr. warned as he pushed open the front door.

"Hounds?" Burns scoffed. "That doesn't sound so bad." "Wait until they have their teeth around your neck. You won't be saying the same thing then, that is, if you can say anything at all. They mauled 3 janitors just last month because they didn't set the alarm correctly."

"Hmm… interesting." Burns whispered to himself.

Soon Burns found himself following Waylon, Sr.'s black corvette to an old factory building that was clearly deserted. The gates were rusted beyond repair. Broken pipes and other rubble littered the front yard.

"This is what you wanted to show me?" Burns muttered.

"Shh…Quiet. There are eyes everywhere." Waylon whispered as he looked around.

Burns scanned the scenery with his flashlight. An old woman and cat fought viciously on the floor for the contents of a tipped over trash can. "Ehhh!" Burns exclaimed. He rushed to keep close to the young physicist who wasn't fazed in the least."

"Through here." Waylon, Sr. instructed. He led an uneasy Burns through the dark corridors of the ancient building, their flashlights the only source of illumination. They seemed to turn corners and enter other hallways endlessly. Burns found himself trembling. He feared he would never make it out of this building.

"Here!" The young physicist called joyfully. He unlocked the door and walked in. Burns followed behind cautiously but all his hesitation disappeared when he saw what was inside.

Four massive sets of control panels framed the back of the room, each one state-of-the-art. A lab room with an enormous viewing window was located to their right, perfectly equipped to experiment with nuclear material. Then there was the nuclear reactor. The gargantuan metal machine was made up of four components that met in the middle. A light that rivaled the Sun's intensity emitted from its core.

"Waylon, however did you manage this?" Burns gasped in awe.

"This old physicist I worked with owns this building but he never uses it anymore. "He lent it to me on the condition that I pay for the electricity I use." He smiled as he pulled one of the levers on the control panel. "The rest, I took care of myself." Suddenly the room burst with light as light fixtures from above lit up one after another, continuing through the hallway and beyond.

"This is incredible." Burns managed. He was so overwhelmed; he didn't have the words to describe what he was witnessing. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so impressed.

"It's taken years of research and experimentation but this is where it pays off." The young physicist beamed. "This nuclear reactor as of now can power two city blocks simultaneously. With due time, everything from radios to factories will be running on nuclear energy throughout the country. All thanks to this technology."

"My God Waylon, you've outdone yourself!" Burns cheered as he hugged the young man.

"Thank you," Waylon replied, taken aback by the gesture. He briefly hugged Burns in return and retreated from the embrace.

Burns had surprised himself by this act as well but he was beginning to develop a sense of respect for this young man, which in Burns case, rarely happened. Therefore he felt that a hug was appropriate.

"So you see. This project is almost ready to take off. All I need is for someone to prepare a platform in the business world." He looked at Burns. "That's where you come in."

"Uh…yes…of course. Well you see. I don't quite have access to my inheritance as of yet, so I can't give you money right away." He turned away. "But in time you're looking at a substantial investment…"

"What are you talking about? You don't have a cent to your name." Waylon stated calmly.

Burns looked back at him with a horrified expression on his face.

"Oh, you think I didn't know. You're grandfather left you with nothing, I'm aware." Waylon, Sr. responded matter-of-factly.

 _"Damn that old fool, Evenson!"_ Burns leaned against the control panel and slid to the floor. "Oh, what's the point?" He cried out. He had never sounded or felt more defeated before. His life had been coming apart since his grandfather left him practically on the streets. Every single person he had ever known turned him away as if his lack of money was the plague itself. He had nothing and now the only plan that could have saved him had blown up in his face. His world was in shambles and for once in his life he had no idea how to get back on his feet.

"Come on man, we don't have time for you to feel sorry for yourself." Waylon offered in a calm tone.

Burns sighed. "Don't concern yourself; I don't have anything to contribute anymore."

"Monty." Waylon, Sr. interrupted. "I didn't ask you to help me because of the money you clearly don't have; I asked you because I know who you are and what you can do."

"What?" Burns asked in confusion.

"You think I would just let anybody know about my work here?" He let out a small confident laugh. "No. I researched your work with your grandfather and the success you had with the plant before we even met. I handpicked you to work with me for a reason. You're a ruthless businessman and that's what I need. Now get up. Don't let me down Burns." He half warned in an authoritative tone.

Burns stared at the young man in shock. "Very few people have spoken to me in that way and gotten away with it. He declared in a serious tone. "And yet…that's exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you." He smiled with sincerity. In that moment he realized that Dr. Waylon J. Smithers had just become the first person he ever fully respected.

"You're welcome." Waylon Sr. offered as he helped pull Burns to his feet. "Now let's go. Here take this." He tossed a crowbar into Burn's arms. Burns gave him a questioning look. "I don't think I have to remind you that this is a questionable neighborhood. You can be assaulted for a piece of gum here." Waylon, Sr. remarked as he grabbed his own crowbar and shut down the light fixtures, leaving the light from the nuclear reactor to illuminate the room once again. "Fortunately I've never had to use this before." Waylon, Sr. stated in gratitude as he looked down at the crowbar. "But it's the Depression, people get desperate." With that he turned his flashlight on and disappeared through the doorframe."

Burns looked down at his own crowbar and chuckled. _"I really underestimated this man. I'm going to like working with him."_

 **End of Flashback Pt. 2**

"Your father could have chosen to work with anyone but he chose me, a man down on his luck." He turned back towards Smithers. "He said I was the man for the job and he was right. It took a few tries but with some persuasion I got a banker to lend me the money we needed for the project." Burns smiled as he recalled the face the banker had made when he threatened the man with photos of him stealing from the bank's vault. "After that everything fell into place. Your father found a way to harness greater amounts of nuclear energy and we opened the plant right here in Springfield." Burns allowed himself to envision the plant's grand opening before the image molded back into his office.

"The point is that your father was the only person in my life that I didn't have to pay or threaten." His face took on a contemplative expression. "It was a remarkable thing. He just always believed in me for some reason, even when I was at my lowest point. He's the only true friend I ever had." He looked away. "That's why I can't believe that he's gone and that I dumped his body down a sewage shaft."

Smithers finally understood why Mr. Burns never wanted to talk about his father before. He was consumed by guilt and grief due to the death of his dear friend and, like always, he had tried to bury his emotions deep inside himself. "How did you remember that sir?"

"I didn't. That Simpson fellow told me what had happened when he visited me at the hospital."

Smithers turned towards the monitors and glared at the plump man who was fast asleep at his post. "I'm sorry sir. I didn't want you to know about that."

"Ah, it's just as well. It's helped me make a lot important decisions that I needed to make." Burns replied as he stared at the portrait of him and Waylon, Sr. with a melancholy gaze.

"But I digress. Waylon promise me something." He stated calmly as he faced his assistant.

"Anything sir."

"Think about the offer. There's more to life than money…well maybe not for me, but I'm a heartless businessman."

"Don't say that sir." Smithers interrupted as he got out of his chair and put his hand on Burns's shoulder.

"There's still time for you Waylon. Promise me you'll consider it." He placed a picture face down on Smithers's palm.

Smithers turned it over and his eyes welled with tears as he saw both his father and Burns holding him up when he was a baby. He placed his hand back on his boss's shoulder. "I will sir. Thank you."

"Excellent." Burns muttered as he pulled away. "Now get out of my office. Go supervise those idiots."

"Yes sir!" Smithers smiled as he hurried out the door.

"Yes, everything is going just as planned." Burns whispered to himself in triumph. He picked up the old photo and observed it for the hundredth time. "Money giveth, money taketh away. But the time has come to do what should have been done long ago, my old friend. I guarantee it."

 ***A big thank you to all my readers and those who have left reviews. I really appreciate your input. What is Burns's plan? Find out soon!**


	4. Truths from Haunted Men

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and FOX. This is my interpretation of this world. Read, enjoy and please let me know what you think in the reviews!

* * *

Smithers gazed at the picture, committing the three faces to memory. "Who would have guessed that amnesia would allow you to get to know someone you thought you've known all your life," he whispered to himself. A smile spread across his face. He always knew that underneath his cold callous nature, Mr. Burns had a sense of humanity. He had displayed warm human emotion too many times in the past for this to not be true. Bobo, his willingness to think of others on the request of his late love Lila, were just a few testaments to this fact. But Smithers always suspected that something must have happened. Something that impacted Burns in a profound way, making him seem untouchable by any emotion other than ambition and greed, the death of a dear friend.

"My dad meant a lot to you huh sir?" Smithers spoke softly to the picture. "Maybe I can too. Maybe…"

"Mr. Smithers, why are you talking to that picture?

"Simpson!" He yelled out in shock. "What are you doing in my office?"

"Well I was just going to ask you the same question. Mr. Burns left two hours ago, why aren't you with him?"

"What!" Smithers shouted as he jumped to his feet. He grabbed Homer by the shoulders and shook him. "Where did he go? Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Ahhh!" Homer let out his iconic cry and pushed Smithers away. "Get your hands off of me. I told you I don't play those games."

Smithers rolled his eyes. "Just tell me where Mr. Burns is," he demanded.

"Well I don't know. I just said goodbye to him when he left, but he remembered my name this time!" Homer exclaimed in triumphed.

"Simpson you fool, Mr. Burns has amnesia." He looked out the window hoping to see Burns's limo, indeed it was gone. "He can't be wondering around town, something terrible could happen to him."

"Only if we're lucky." Homer replied.

Smithers shot Homer a cold glare. "This is serious Simpson. He could be anywhere right now!" He tugged at his own hair with both hands. "I need to call the police!"

"So uh…when was the last time you saw the person in question?" Chief Wiggum asked as he rummaged around Burns's office.

"A few hours ago, please Officer Wiggum you have to fine him. He has amnesia!" Smithers begged.

"Amnesia eh? So he's kidnapped someone!"

"What?" Smithers replied in confusion.

Suddenly the door flew open and in walked the thin old man. "Waylon, what is the meaning of this?" He demanded.

"Mr. Burns, where have you been? I've been worried sick."

"Step back Mr. Smithers. He could be dangerous," Chief Wiggum stepped in front of Smithers and drew his gun out, pointing it straight at Burns. "Alright Mr. Burns, start talking. Where is she?"

"Where's who?" Burns asked, a mixture of annoyance and confusion in his voice.

"Don't insult my intelligence. I've dealt with too many of your kind to be fooled. Now where's Amnesia?"

Burns shot Smithers a puzzled look. "For heaven sakes man, put that gun down. You're going to kill someone!" Burns exclaimed.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Lou demanded as he walked in. "Chief, what are you doing? This is Mr. Burns, put your gun down."

"Not until this sicko tells me where Amnesia is."

Burns gave Lou a questioning glance and Lou nodded back at him with a sympathetic expression on his face. Suddenly he raised his gun and smacked Chief Wiggum in the back of the head, sending him crashing to the floor. "Sorry Chief but you know we can't afford another uh…incident." He grabbed the unconscious man's feet and began to drag him towards the door. "Uh, I'm sorry about this. You guys carry on. We'll get out of your hair." With that Lou dragged Chief Wiggum out the door, closing it behind him.

"Waylon, what's the matter with you? I leave for a few hours and you call the police down here?" You know better than I that the last thing we need are cops snooping around down here."

"I'm sorry sir, but I was going out of my mind not knowing where you were. Where were you sir?" He asked in a distressed tone.

"Don't be so dramatic Waylon. I merely went on a drive around town to see if it would jog my memory but alas it was of no use."

Smithers took a deep breath of relief. "Sir you can't be wondering around the town in the state you're in, it's dangerous."

"Nonsense, Waylon. I'm fine. Just because I can't remember a few things doesn't mean that I can't live my life."

"Well no but that's why you've got me sir. If you need to go somewhere let me know, I'll take you."

"No Waylon. I like being self-reliant. It's very… empowering." He smiled confidently. "You carry on with your life and I'll carry on with mine."

"But sir I really don't mind. I've always driven you, cooked, cleaned your house, and helped you bathe."

"Bathe?" Burns interrupted. "Waylon, do I look like a cripple to you?" He paused. "No. Forget what you did before. Do whatever else it is you do with your life."

"But that is what I do." Smithers chimed in. "I actually really enjoy it…helping you that is." He added quickly. Burns looked at him in disbelief.

"Why?"

"Uh…" Smithers looked down at his shoes. "Be…because you're a very important person to me sir and I like working for you and…"

Burns stared at him for a few seconds, deep in thought.

"Waylon stop. I've just realized something about you." Smithers's eyes widened. "W…w…what do you mean sir?" He fidgeted around as if he no longer knew what to do with his hands and feet.

Burns observed him for a second but quickly dismissed it. "I mean that I've known you since you were a mere neonate and yet, I don't know much about you at all. You don't really expect me to believe that this job is your only focus in life?" He studied Smithers's face. "Is there something you're keeping from me?"

"Uh…uh…" He tried his best to keep his body from trembling but was slowly losing the battle against his crippling nerves.

"Come now lad, you can tell me."

Smithers looked at Burns for a moment, pondering the words he had just heard. _"Should I tell him? This could be my only chance! What if…"_ He took a deep breath. "No sir. I just really love my job. I appreciate you keeping me here for so many years." He smiled, desperately trying to conceal his self-disappointment.

"Yes, well you've been very efficient from what I've seen so far." Burns looked at some paperwork on his desk to the relief of Smithers. He felt he would crack any moment under his boss's gaze.

"Very well Waylon. I know how much you love your job but you must understand that some changes will be made."

"Uh…of course sir."

"Excellent. Have a seat." Burns commanded as he sat down himself. "First, you are to limit yourself to your work here at the plant. No more driving me around or doing domestic work at my house. I have staff to take care of that for me now. I'll even hire a chauffeur as long as you promise to never call the police down here again."

Smithers sighed in defeat. "Yes sir."

Burns stood up for a brief second to look around as if expecting someone to barge in at any moment. "Second, I'm about to embark on several lucrative business deals and you're going to assist me. Oh, some might have to be done in less than legal terms, a few bribes here, a few missing people there."

"Nothing we haven't done before sir." Smithers added agreeably.

"Excellent, let's get started shall we?"

For the next month Burns and Smithers were the unstoppable business force they had always been. In fact, they were more successful than they had been in years. Burns it seemed had awakened from a haze that he had been under for years, and negotiated with the ferocity of businessmen more than half his age. Smithers found himself learning all sorts of new tactics for making deals, hiding illegal activity behind well-placed loopholes and, of course, the art of persuading a less than compliant business partner. Smithers thought he knew every trick in the book, but now it seemed that Burns always had an Ace up his sleeve for every situation.

"Keep your eyes and ears open Waylon." Mr. Burns advised. "They all have a weakness; you just have to know where to look."

One day Burns was sifting through some business files when the phone rang. "Ahoy hoy?"

"Mr. Burns?" The sound of a Russian accented voice filled Burns's ear.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"That's none of your concern. All you need to know is that I'm calling on behalf of Dmitri Petrovich."

Burns's eyes widened. "How did you get this number?"

"A Mr. Smithers provided us with it. Just let him know that Mr. Petrovich said yes. You have nuclear deal. You'll receive equipment in a week. That is all."

Before Burns could even think of a reply the line went dead. He searched the caller ID for a number that would prove he didn't just hallucinate the call. It simply read UNKNOWN.

"Waylon!" Burns shouted into the intercom. "Get in here immediately!"

Smithers rushed in with a worried expression on his face. "What is it sir?"

"How do you know Dmitri Petrovich?"

Smithers stared at him in surprise. "Why do you ask sir?"

"One of his goons just called me to inform me that you made a deal with him. Is this true?"

Smithers's eyes lit up. "Wow that fast huh." He smiled at his boss. "Yes sir. He agreed to provide us with some spare equipment he wasn't using at his plant. It will save us a fortune in the replacement of our faulty machinery. Plus he asked me to keep him in mind for future business deals."

Burns stared at his assistant in disbelief. "Waylon, that man never makes deals with anyone, he carries out threats. He owns one of the most prestigious nuclear power plants in the world. How on earth did you get him to agree to all of this?"

Smithers looked out into the distance as he recalled the encounter he had with Petrovich.

 **Flashback**

"And then she told me I was no good and that she would find herself another man!"" Petrovich cried in his thick Russian accent.

"Another round?" Moe whispered as we walked past them.

Smithers nodded with a sympathetic look on his face. "Then what happened Mr. Petrovich?"

"She hurt me real bad, Waylon. I couldn't stand it no longer so I found a way to end situation."

"I see. You filed for divorce."

"No, but next best thing." He shifted his eyes back and forth a bit before looking at Smithers. "I haven't seen her since."

Smithers nodded in understanding.

"You know, no one's listened to me like this in long time. Whatever you want I'll make it happen."

"Anything?" Smithers replied happily.

 **End of Flashback**

Smithers smiled brightly and returned his gaze back to his boss. "You said everyone has a weakness right? I found his."

Burns stared at him for a moment then he laughed triumphantly as he shook Smithers's hand. "Hahaha! You've done it lad! You've become a fine businessman. I'm proud of you."

Smithers's eyes widened. "Do you mean it sir?"

"Yes I do. And now I know you're ready to go to the 2nd Division Nuclear Plant and represent us well."

Burns pulled a portfolio from his desk and handed it to Smithers.

Smithers's smile faded a bit as he took it. "Oh right. How long will I be gone sir?"

"A few weeks, maybe three, depending on how everything goes." Burns said as he scanned a folder on his desk. "I've arranged for someone to meet you at the airport. You'll be staying in a town that's just about an hour from the plant. For some reason they've got it in their heads that having the plant in the town would be too hazardous. Nonsense if you ask me, but what can you do?" He grumbled. "Anyhow, the people are rather friendly and they love diversity so feel free to carry on as you wish. Just remember that your work there comes first."

Smithers gave his boss a confused look.

"Come now Waylon, stop your futile attempt to dissimulate, I know all about your preference for the male gender."  
The portfolio suddenly crashed on to the floor. Papers flew everywhere as a pale-faced Smithers scrambled to retrieve them.

"Sss…Sir I…I can explain."

Burns waved his hand dismissively. "No need. Did you really think I wouldn't figure it out? The clothes you wear, the music you listen to, made me suspicious. Of course it was all too clear when I met that man you were trying to pass off as a friend outside the plant one day. He denied everything at first but I have my ways of making people talk. He confirmed everything so don't try to deny it anymore." Burns explained calmly.

"You're not mad sir?" Smithers asked hopefully as he rose from the ground.

"Of course not Waylon. Oh, perhaps there's a time in my life where I wouldn't have taken too kindly to it but that is no longer my opinion on the matter." He patted Smithers on the shoulder "I said I was proud of you and I am. I just wish your father was here to see the man you've become." He offered Smithers a half-smile. "Carry on lad, carry on."

Smithers smiled and gave his boss a brief hug before heading towards the door. He looked back as he reached the door frame. "Thank you sir."

Later on that night Smithers was packing for his trip when he came across dozens of pictures of him with Mr. Burns that he collected and carefully preserved throughout the years. Smithers sighed. Although they worked together, Burns had established a painful distance between them. Sure, Burns almost treated him as an equal now but Smithers couldn't help but long for the days when the older man depended on him. At least there seemed to be hope then, now it was clear he was only a friend. "It may not have been the affection I was looking for but at least I know you accept me for me sir." He put the excess photos into the box and taped it shut. " I can't do it anymore. It's time to move on Waylon," he whispered.

The next morning Smithers rushed to pick up some last minute things at the plant. As he walked past Burns's door he couldn't help but hear him arguing with someone on the phone. You don't' understand…" _"_ _I know I shouldn't be doing this but…"_ Smithers leaned in towards the door.

"As you can see this is a rather urgent situation…" Burns sighed and in a much calmer tone stated, "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't of the utmost importance. In the end I'm sure you'll be most content that you agreed to do this. Think it over, let me know. Just don't take too long to respond. This opportunity will likely not present itself again."

CLING! Smithers heard the antique phone slam and the sound of footsteps approach the door. He tried to run back to his office but he tripped over his luggage. "Ahh!" He screamed as he plummeted to the ground, painfully landing on his suitcase.

"You're still here?" Burns scolded. "Get up you fool. The plane leaves in an hour!"

"Sorry sir, I came back to get some documents and I heard you shouting. Is everything ok?"

"Yes, just some idiot I had to deal with." Burns stated as he waved his hand dismissively. He led Smithers to the plant's exit and gestured towards the doors. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Smithers remained motionless, his eyes directed towards the ground.

Burns sighed impatiently. "I'll be alright Waylon and you will too, quit your senseless worrying." Smithers smiled at him. That was exactly what he needed to hear.

"See you soon sir." With that he climbed into a taxi.

Burns waved goodbye as the vehicle disappeared into the distance.

"Excellent, that naïve fool doesn't suspect a thing. Burns scanned the scenery one last time before entering the plant. He carried a content smile that quickly faded when he entered his office.

"Mr. Burns, I don't get it."

He turned to face his employee. "What is it Simpson? I don't have all day."

"Why did you want Mr. Smithers to leave so badly and why didn't you want me to tell him I was driving you around to all those places and…" Homer gasped mid sentence and pointed a finger at Burns. "You're going to murder Mr. Smithers. I want no part of this."

Burns chuckled coldly. "You're already up to your neck in it Simpson!"

Homer stared at him, terror filled his eyes.

Burns cleared his throat. "Sorry, old habit." He turned towards the bookcase. "I suppose I can tell you now that everything has fallen into place."

"Your plans of murder?"

"No you buffoon!" Burns turned to face Homer once again. "You see Simpson, that bank you've been taking me to every week was not a bank at all. It was a clinic where I would get regular injections of steroids and other chemicals. Oh it's made my hair grow into a thick mane and given me the strength of ten men but it can't prevent the inevitable for much longer."

"What are you saying Mr. Burns?"

"I'm dying Simpson."

* * *

 ***** Hello everyone. I'm sorry I took so long to get this chapter up. I wanted to wait until Chapter 5 was ready because as you can see this one ends in a pretty big cliffhanger. But I thought I might as well put it up since it's been so long since I uploaded my last chapter. Thank you so much to all of my readers, especially to the ones who have left reviews. I really appreciate it. A shout out to PrincessPeach922, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! :) I promise to have Chapter 5 up as soon as possible! All will be revealed soon!**


	5. The Nature of Shady Buisness

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and FOX. This is my interpretation of this world.

 ***Hello my lovely readers. Quick note, this chapter jumps back and forth between scenes so just be aware of that. Other than that I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Smithers stepped off the plane and looked around in wonder at the tropical scenery. "Ah, sweet serenity at last."

Unbeknownst to him, two men observed him as they chatted amongst each other. They were both tall, medium build men. One had brown hair, while the other had black, peppered with white hairs that were spread evenly throughout his head.

"Are you sure that's him Maely? I don't want any mistakes," warned the older man with black, peppered hair.

"I'm pretty sure. Let me see the picture again Pellen," Maely replied.

Pellen pulled the photo out of the file and they studied the image of a man in a purple bow-tie and old fashion spectacles. "It's him." They concluded at the same time.

"He's kind of goofy looking. Do you really think he could handle working for that SOB?" Maely asked.

"I don't know, the old man claimed he was highly skilled. Either way that doesn't concern us. We only have one job to do so stick to it. Don't lose focus." Pellen advised.

Maely nodded and they advanced towards Smithers.

 **0-0-0**

"Come on Mr. Burns, everyone already knows that." Homer scoffed. "You've been at death's door for so many years and yet somehow you've managed to avoid it every time, even with so many people wishing for it so."

"Well those people have finally gotten their wish. You see Simpson; the night before I left the hospital the doctor informed me that the years of radiation exposure had taken their toll. My body was slowly succumbing to radiation poisoning and it was too late to do much about it." Burns looked at the photo of his friend, who had perished from a similar fate so many years ago. "He gave me a month and a half to live." He paused. "The injections have revitalized me for now, but it's only a matter of time before I join my dear friend Waylon Sr."

Homer remained silent for a moment. Part of him wanted to cheer at the demise of his heartless boss. Most of him, though, understood that Mr. Burns had just been dealt the cruelest hand by fate. "I'm so sorry Mr. Burns." He offered softly.

"Ah, don't be. It's a fitting punishment I suppose, for everything I've done."

"Maybe so but that doesn't mean you deserve to die alone. Why didn't you tell Mr. Smithers? He cares about you more than anyone else, a little excessively, if you ask me." He added with great emphasis.

"That boy's been through enough." Burns sighed. "He lost his father and his mother…well let's just say that woman must have checked out years ago based on what Waylon has told me. I may be a self-centered man Simpson but if there's anyone I ever thought was worth a damn, it was Waylon Sr. And Waylon Jr... he's the only person left that I care to look out for. I don't wish for him to witness my...end."

"But Mr. Burns you've always treated him like crap, not to mention what you did to his father's…"

"I'm fully aware of what I did!" Burns interrupted bitterly. "I've never handled tragedy well and I admit that the death of my good friend must have brought out my worst. Well I'm not that man anymore. It's a funny thing Simpson. This situation must have helped me remember why I'm here." He gazed over at the old photo. "And what I've lost." Burns looked back to see Homer sobbing uncontrollably. "Cease your blubbering Simpson!" He commanded with great annoyance. "I didn't tell you this for you to get sentimental."

"*sniff* Sorry sir, it's just so touching."

"Anyway…" Burns uttered dismissively. "I'm sure you realize that Waylon cannot know about this. When he returns, I want you to give him this key." He held up an old fashion, silver key. "It will be in a secret compartment right under my desk. Tell him that it opens an old World War II safe. He'll know which one."

"Why can't you just give it to him yourself? Where will you b…" His lips froze as he saw Burns's cold glare. "Oh, right. Don't worry Mr. Burns. I'll make sure he gets that key and I won't tell a soul." He made the motion of a zipper closing over his lips.

Burns nodded. "Thank you Simpson. You have finally proven to be most competent."

"Wow, you're thanking me sir. You really have changed. Can I have a raise?"

"Don't push it Simpson," the old man growled grumbled.

"I'm just messing with ya. You know, I used to despise you, we all do. But now, you're alright sir." He smiled as he left the room and closed the door.

 **0-0-0**

"Are you Waylon J, Smithers Jr.?"

Smithers looked up at the tall man who towered at least a foot and a half over him. "Yes," he replied hesitantly. "You must be here to pick me up from the airport. Mr. Burns said that you would be waiting for me."

"Eh, yes. I'm agent Clyde Pellen and this is agent Ethan Maely. We're here to escort you to the plant."

"Agents? Wow, well I appreciate the sentiment but is this really necessary?"

"It's a complementary service the owner of the plant provides for those he does business with." Maely chimed in.

Smithers smiled, he suddenly felt so important.

Pellen gave his partner a quick glance and stepped forward, taking one of Smithers's suitcases. "Yes, well let us get going. Mr. Haxen has been awaiting your arrival."

 **0-0-0**

RING! RING! "Ahoy hoy?"

"Mr. Burns! Finally I get a hold of you!"

"What is it Garven? I'm very busy." He replied in a threatening grunt.

"Uh…sir, the plane landed an hour ago, but I'm afraid your assistant is nowhere to be seen."

"You mean to tell me that you can't do something as simple as finding a man in an airport!"

"He's not here sir. Either he was never on the plane or…" He paused for a moment. "Mr. Burns, did you let anybody else know about Mr. Smithers's arrival today?"

"Of course not, you imbecile!"

Garven's face suddenly grew pale. "I …I'll call you back sir."

"Garven don't you dare ha…"

Garven ended the call before Burns could escalate any further. He paced the lobby for a few moments before a security guard approached him.

"Sir, do you need help?"

Garven looked at him for a brief second. "Yes. Have you seen this man?" He pulled a picture of Smithers out of his briefcase and held it up to the security guard.

"Oh yes. I saw him leave the airport with two men about an hour ago."

"Do you remember what they looked like?"

"I didn't really pay much attention to them but something did catch my eye. They left in a burgundy limo."

Garven's face drained from any of its remaining color.

"Hey are you ok?" asked the security guard.

"Yes." Garven responded a bit distantly. "Thank you" He walked away as he studied Smithers's image.

"Oh that old man is going to kill me now, but that's nothing compared to what's going to happen to this guy. I just hope I can find him in time."

 **0-0-0**

The ride to the plant had grown silent, too much for Smithers. He suddenly felt an ominous essence in the air. He tried to shake it and began a conversation with the agent sitting across from him. "So um, Mr. Pellen?"

"Yes?"

"What is Wendell Haxen like?"

Pellen took a moment before replying. "He's a… businessman in every sense of the word. He likes success."

Smithers suddenly noticed the man had a Brooklyn accent as he spoke. "Well we'll see what we can do to make that happen." He stated cheerfully.

Pellen chuckled. "Yes. We'll see about that."

HONK! HONK!

"We're here!" Maely shouted from the front.

Pellen stepped out and held the door open, gesturing for Smithers to exit the limo. Smithers took a deep breath as he stepped out.

 _"It's just another power plant there's nothing to worry about."_ Smithers mentally assured himself as they lead him to the front entrance.

Suddenly he heard a scream that grew louder until a man hit the ground in front of the gate. Pellen threw the gate open just as a group of 3 men were preparing to throw another man over the gate.

"Gentlemen please!" He shouted. "Is this any way to treat our guests.

"But sir these are protestors." One of the men replied.

"You know our ways!" Pellen shot back. He nodded to Maely and the younger man ushered Smithers into the building. "Not in front of the building. Do it out of sight next time." He grumbled.

"Yes, Mr. Pellen" They said in unison.

He nodded. "As you were gentlemen."

ZZZZZZZ "No! No! Not that! Ahhhhh!"

Pellen quickly shut the door to muffle the sound of the screams. "Shall we press on then Mr. Smithers?" He said in his Brooklyn accent.

"Um." Smithers cleared his throat. "Of course."

The men lead him to an elevator. They exited on the 41st floor and made their way through a long hall. The corridor ended at tow enormous doors made completely out of brass. Pellen knocked on the door and a man's irritated voice immediately came through the speaker.

"What is it?" "Agents 53210 and 54216 reporting; we are accompanied by the long awaited Waylon J, Smithers Jr.

"But of course. Come in." The voice relied in a calmer tone.

The doors slowly swung open and, the two men gestured politely with their arms for Smithers to enter. As walked in he saw a rather elderly man, who was in great shape for his age, sitting behind an enormous oak desk. His silver hair was impeccably slicked back and he wore an expensive, dark grey suit. The man rose from his chair and greeted him.

"Ah Mr. Smithers, we've been expecting you. I'm Wendell Haxen. Welcome to the 2nd Division Nuclear Plant."

 **0-0-0**

Burns tapped his fingers nervously on his desk. He ran the conversation over again in his mind.

 _"That wasn't part of the deal Wendell!" He shouted._

 _"My dear Monty, it's just the nature of our business. You, more than anyone, should know that it would be foolish to ignore opportunity when it comes stumbling onto your front porch."_

 _"You don't own him Wendell. He owes you nothing more than what we agreed to in the contract."_

 _Haxen laughed in such a cold manner that it sent chills down Burns's spine. "Come now Montgomery. Do you really think I care about the logistics of legal contracts? Mr. Smithers will work for me until I say so and when that time comes I will decide what to do with him. If you make any attempts to intervene, I'll make sure he never gets the chance to leave."_

 _Burns's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare." Burns grumbled._

 _"Don't fret Monty. He'll be well taken care of…as long as he's the invaluable asset you claim him to be. Ah ha ha ha. Argh! Argh! *cough* *cough* *gasp* argh!"_

 _"Uh…Wendell?" Burns called softly into the phone._

 _"Mr. Haxen? Oh my God, he's choking!" cried a voice from the background._

 _Burns eyes lit up and he pressed the phone to his ear._

 _Meanwhile on the other end, an agent had burst into the room. He immediately began administering the Heimlich maneuver until a colorful marble was dislodged from the elderly man's throat. Haxen plummeted to the floor, gasping._

 _"Sir, I've already told you that those aren't for eating."_

 _Haxen stood and pulled out a gun. CHK-CHK! "And I told you I don't like to be touched." He retorted viciously. "Monty I have to go. I need to send for another body bag…I mean…bodyguard._

An hour later Burns sat there as different voices echoed in his mind.

 _"He's my only son Monty."_

 _"You're very important to me sir, the only thing I have in this world._

KNOCK- KNOCK

"Come in." Burns called softly.

"You called Mr. Burns?" Homer asked.

"Yes Simpson. I need you to do one more thing for me."

* * *

 ***Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to all my readers, I really appreciate you. :) Sorry for the delay, life has been getting in the way lately but Chapter 6 is underway. I promise! It seems Mr. Burns got more than he bargained for. Mistakes have been made, but who will end up paying the ultimate price? Find out soon. Until next time!**


	6. Working for the Madman

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and FOX. This is my interpretation of that world. Read, review enjoy!

* * *

"Mr. Smithers, how did you like the plant?" Haxen asked.

"Well I haven't had the chance to explore it but from what I've seen, it looks very promising," Smithers replied cautiously.

"But of course. You just got here, is that correct?"

Smithers nodded politely in response.

"Well, not to worry. I'll have some of my men give you a tour later today. Now it's my understanding that you're quite the savvy businessman. After all, Montgomery Burns rarely has anything good to say about anyone and yet he was quite adamant about your capabilities."

"Really?" Smithers blurted out. He couldn't help but smile at the comment. Haxen gave him a questioning look which snapped him back to reality. "Uh…yes." My work speaks for itself I suppose."

"Yes, well I'm hoping to see some of your great work today," Haxen retorted. "I hope you don't mind but I've taken the liberty to set up our first meeting today. We were just waiting for you to arrive. No sense in wasting time don't you agree?" He lifted an eyebrow for emphasis.

"Right." Smithers managed. The news had completely thrown him but he wasn't about to let that show. Burns had believed in him and he couldn't let him down.

Haxen nodded in response and pushed the intercom button on his desk. "Pellen, escort Mr. Smithers to the boardroom."

A few moments later Smithers found himself at the boardroom enormous table. The nine other men seemed oblivious to the fact that he was even there as they bickered on.

"This can't be right!" Haxen snapped. Every time I see this financial report the profit margin declines 25%! How do you explain this?" He shook the papers threateningly in the face of a young accountant.

"If I may Mr. Haxen," Smithers called out. He held his copy of the financial report cautiously over his head, almost regretting that he had drawn attention to himself. "I noticed that there is a substantial electricity bill here. In fact, this almost accounts for a third of the plant's costs. May I ask, what is consuming so much energy?"

The men looked at each other, some confused, others too petrified to speak.

"Um…the generators that power the lighting and other tech equipment work solely on electricity." The young accountant explained meekly.

I don't see why, this plant has the potential to power itself without the need of any outside resources." Smithers pointed out.

"Impossible!" A thin middle-aged man interrupted. "There's no way we could power the plant and the amount of clients we have simultaneously."

"Actually you can, with certain measures and techniques; you can reserve enough energy to power both the plant and your current consumers." Smithers shot back. "In fact, according to this report, with the amount of energy this plant generates you could be reaching out to much larger regions."

"Mr. Smithers!" the man interrupted again. "We don't have time for your outlandish…"

"Shut it Merris!" Haxen snapped. "Let him finish his point."

"I believe, based on these numbers, that there's a substantial amount of energy being wasted or misused." Smithers concluded.

Haxen straightened his posture. "Interesting, Merris you're in charge of energy management. Were you aware of this?"

The thin man shook his head in fear.

"Very well," Haxen replied calmly. "How would you resolve this matter Mr. Smithers?"

"It's quite simple we would just have to reevaluate the energy distribution and make sure all the nuclear reactors are harnessing the maximum amount of energy." Smithers quickly jotted down a few things on his copy of the financial report and passed it to Haxen. "Here's the amount of energy you produce presently and the number next to it is the number you could be producing."

Haxen studied the numbers and smiled. "You're pulling your weight Smithers." He turned to a young man with blonde hair, seated next to him. "Benson, take Mr. Smithers on a tour of the plant tomorrow and see that his ideas are implemented immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Haxen."

"Alright gentlemen, you are all dismissed, except for you Merris." A conversation is warranted, don't you agree?"

Merris's eyes doubled in size. He nodded in obedience and sat back down.

"Come on." Benson said as he led Smithers out of the room.

"Until tomorrow Mr. Smithers," Haxen called out. Smithers turned back and nodded, doing his best to avoid Merris's panicked gaze.

"What's going to happen to him?" Smithers asked Benson as they made their way down the hall.

"I'm not sure but chances are we'll never see him again. That's usually what happens when Haxen asks to have a 'conversation'."

"He's going to get fired?"

"Uh…sure. Look, I'll see you tomorrow." He pointed at Pellen and Maely, who were standing behind Smithers. "It looks like those two want to talk to you."

He shook Smithers's hand and disappeared into the crowd of workers.

"Mr. Smithers." Pellen called out. "Come with us. We'll escort you to where you're staying."

A week later Haxen sat at his desk and scanned the new financial report. He chuckled menacingly. "Yes, Burns was right about this boy. He's a regular protégé. Does he suspect anything Pellen?"

Pellen shook his head.

"Very well. Did you know Mr. Burns was my greatest competition for a while? I played nice for a while, feigning courtesy. Ha ha ha, he thought I was going to mentor his assistant, the fool." He paused for a moment. "That boy was the last thing he had. Without him his plant will fall into ruins and I'll be there to reap the rewards. Ah ha ha ha!"

The phone suddenly rang, cutting the old man's celebration short. He sighed in frustration and picked it up. "What is it?" He snapped.

"Sir, uh…I just saw a suspicious man roaming around outside."

"A man? Where?"

"He's in the courtyard, underneath some bushes."

"I see, thank you lad. Get back to work."

He hung up and faced Pellen. "You can go, but keep an eye on Mr. Smithers. Make sure he doesn't set foot off this prosperity until I say so."

"Yes sir." Pellen replied as he headed out the door.

A few moments later a man with a sack over his head was dragged into Haxen's office. A goon tied him to a chair as the other handed Haxen a wallet and badge.

"Hmm…. Arthur Garven is it?" He motioned to the other goon and he immediately pulled the sack off the man's head. "All right Arthur, if you know what's good for you, you'll start talking."

Garven took a moment to look around, doing his best to keep his composure. Yet, the terror in his eyes betrayed his true state of mind.

"M…Mr. Haxen, please. This is all a huge misunderstanding. I'm just a simple bodyguard looking for a job."

"A job?" Haxen grabbed a file from his desk and opened it. "But according to records you're well employed at the moment by one C. Montgomery Burns. What were you doing on my property?" He growled threateningly.

Garven sat quietly as he trembled from head to toe.

"Not going to cooperate huh?" Haxen nodded to the goons. "Gentlemen, you know what to do."

The large men began to drag Garven out when he shouted.

"No wait! M...m…Mr. Burns sent me here to retrieve Mr. Smithers. I was just following orders. Please let me go, you'll never see me again!"

"Yes, I was just thinking the same thing." Haxen pressed the intercom and leaned into it. "Pellen, change of plans. Come back to my office immediately." He hung up and gave Garven a menacing gaze. "Now in the meantime…"

As Pellen entered the office, he was a taken aback at what he saw. A goon held Garven aggressively by the arms while the other goon held a power drill inches from the man's forehead. Meanwhile Haxen, who had a camera in his hand, shot him an irritated glance. "Pellen, could your timing be anymore inopportune? Sit in that chair until we're done." He pointed to a chair across the room. "And you three resume your poses."

All three men nodded in unison.

"Eh, is this good boss?" Asked the goon with the drill.

"Mmm…Not convincing enough," Haxen replied. "Wrap your other hand around that rat's throat."

"Argh!" Garven gasped under the tight grip.

"Yes perfect gentlemen. This will make a great addition to our company's calendar for next year" He snapped a few photos and nodded in approval.

Garven gasped in relief as the goon let go of his neck.

"You too can leave now." Haxen ordered.

The goons quickly exited the room.

"Now I know I wanted this done a little down the road, but due to a mishap, the plan is going to be sped up. I already got what I needed from Mr. Smithers anyway. We can't risk Mr. Burns getting his coveted assistant back so he is to be dispatched as of tonight, along with this vermin." He pointed to Garven.

Pellen nodded.

"Now go do what you do best."

Pellen grabbed Garven by the back of the shirt and dragged him out as struggled and pleaded.

 **0-0-0**

"I think Mr. Haxen is really impressed with my work." Smithers declared cheerfully."

Benson nodded. "I have to admit, I thought you were crazy to suggest anything to Haxen but your idea really came through."

Smithers smiled. "At this rate I'll probably be out of here in a week."

Benson looked up from his clipboard. "What do you mean?"

"Well I'm only here on a temporary basis. My boss Mr. Burns sent me here too…well…experience something new I guess. At least that's the way he put it."

"Look Waylon, I don't know how to tell you this but once a person starts working here they can't leave, at least not by choice."

Smithers chuckled. "You act as if we're in the mafia."

Benson's face took on a grave expression. He grabbed Smithers by the shoulders and shook him. "You don't understand Waylon. Haxen's a madman, he'll…"

"Benson!" A voice shouted from behind.

Benson's eyes widened as he turned to see Pellen standing behind him.

"Is there a problem?" The agent asked.

"No sir." Benson replied as he backed away from Smithers.

"Mr. Smithers, would you please accompany me?"

"Certainly, but may I ask where we're going?"

"Mr. Haxen has decided that it's time for you to go back to Springfield."

"So soon?" Smithers gave the agent a confused look.

"Well Mr. Haxen didn't want me to worry you but just between us, he got a distressful call from Mr. Burns, urging you to return. It seems there was some trouble at the plant.

Smithers gasped. "Why didn't you say that in the first place? Let's go." Smithers followed Pellen towards the exit as Benson watched helplessly, unable to warn Smithers of what was to come.

Soon Smithers was back in the burgundy limo that he had arrived in a week earlier. His mind was racing a mile a minute. _"What could have happened? Is Mr. Burns ok?"_ He thought to himself.

Suddenly the limo came to a screeching halt and Smithers flew forward. He looked over at Pellen in complete shock. "What happened?"

"Step out of the car Mr. Smithers." The agent commanded calmly.

"What? No, we can't stop. I have to get back to Springfield. Mr. Burns needs me."

Pellen immediately pulled a gun out of his lapel jacket and pointed it at Smithers. "I said step out of the car, now." The agent grumbled aggressively.

Smithers slowly exited the limo and realized that they were in the middle of a vast jungle, nothing but tress and thick vegetation for miles.

He turned to see Pellen and Maely approaching him while they cocked their guns

"You've done a great job Mr. Smithers but unfortunately for you, you've become too much of a liability to keep around." Pellen stated.

"No Mr. Pellen, please. Don't do this."

"Sorry but you're too much of an inconvenience for us now." Maely replied coldly.

Both men raised their guns and pointed at Smithers. He only had time to put his hands in front of his face before they fired.

* * *

 ***** Hello everyone thank you for reading and for your reviews, I really appreciate the input. Don't freak out too much guys. Just like in the Simpsons anything can happen here, so keep a look out for Chapter 7 to see what happens next!**


	7. Haxen's Awakening

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and Fox. This is my interpretation of this world.

 *****Being that it has been a while since I've updated my story, I do suggest for you guys to go back and read at least from Chapter 5 if you don't remember the details of what happened because that will be important for this chapter. Enjoy everyone!**

* * *

"Mr. Haxen, sir!"

Haxen looked up from the factory floor to see Benson trying to get his attention from the floor above. The young man clenched on to the railings as if he were going to topple over. "The package that you've been waiting for has arrived."

Haxen gave him a cold, sinister grin. "I'll be right up."

He quickly ran up the flight of stairs and followed Benson into an elevator.

As they approached Haxen's office they saw Pellen dragging a body bag, which was clearly occupied.

"You may leave now Benson." Haxen instructed as he waved the younger man away.

Benson nodded and hurried away.

"I don't think this was such a good idea sir. What if we get caught with this? What would we say?"

"You tell them, you work for me and I'll handle the rest." Haxen said as he walked in. He grinned and kneeled next to the body bag, slowly unzipping it. "You've done a fine job Pellen. Maybe I'll even take a picture of him and send it to his boss." He chuckled menacingly. "Oh, how I'd love to see Montgomery's face when he sees…"

Suddenly the body bag burst open and out jumped Arthur Garven who pointed his gun at Haxen.

Haxen fell on his back in great shock.

"Nice to see you again Haxen," Garven stated with great confidence. "Did I do it right?" he asked Pellen eagerly. "I can't believe I'm working alongside with official agents!"

"Yes Garven you did well." Pellen replied as he took out his own gun and pointed it at Haxen.

"What is this Pellen?" Haxen grumbled.

"Did you really think you were untouchable?" He laughed as he pulled out a badge. "You see I've never worked for you. I'm with the NRC and you're under arrest for multiple counts of fraud, attempt at murder, reckless endangerment of the environment and racketeering."

Haxen glared at him dangerously. "You're not the first person to try to take me down Pellen. You have no witnesses other than yourself; my workers will never talk."

"Ah, but someone already has." Pellen retorted. He handed Haxen a note. "Mr. Burns sends his best."

Haxen opened the note and his rage bubbled to the surface as he read it. " _No one threatens me."_

"He contacted us a month ago when he began to suspect you were plotting against him. Turns out he was right. He agreed to help us with the investigation in exchange that we protect Mr. Smithers during the time that he was here. And Garven here; Burns sent him to this plant in order to distract you so that you would want me to get rid of Smithers as soon as possible. "

 **Flashback**

Pellen dragged Garven into the burgundy limo.

"Pl…please, don't kill me." Garven stuttered.

"Shut up Garven." Pellen interrupted. "No one's going to kill you. Now listen, Mr. Burns didn't hire you to protect Mr. Smithers. He hired you to keep Haxen off my trail." He pulled his badge out and showed it to Garven. "I'm an agent with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. I've been investigating Haxen for a while now and I'm just about to bust him, but I'll need a little help so that he doesn't suspect, are you in?"

Garven smiled and nodded.

 **End of Flashback**

A swarm of NRC agents poured into the room and surrounded Haxen.

"It's over, you SOB. We finally got you. You lost." Pellen smiled triumphantly as Haxen stared back furious, but defeated.

 **0-0-0**

Meanwhile on the other side of town, a burgundy limo glided swiftly through the streets.

"Did you guys really have to pretend to shoot at me?" Smithers asked.

"Hey, Haxen isn't' stupid. He sent two goons to follow us and make sure we killed you. When we realized it, we knew we had to get rid of them if we were going to get you out of here alive."

Smithers thought back to that moment where he was sure he was going to die. He heard the shots ring out, but once he opened his eyes, he discovered that two men lie dead behind him instead.

"Did Mr. Burns really set all of this up to protect me?"

"He did."Maely replied matter-of-factly.

Smithers stared off into the road for a moment. "Do you think I could give him a call from your phone? Mine doesn't get reception here."

"I suppose so , but you're paying for the long distance." Maely half joked as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to Smithers.

Smithers chuckled and nodded. He then began to dial the formiliar number.

 **0-0-0**

"Sir?" Homer poked his head through Burns's office.

"Did you make that phone call to Haxen?" Burns's asked.

"Hours ago Mr. Burns."

"And?"

"That agent Pellen just called, the plan worked perfectly."

"Excellent. Burns expressed as he tented his fingers. "I've never been one to follow the law but it's to my advantage over someone I despise, why not?" Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha eh…" Burns suddenly dropped to the floor completely unconscious.

"Mr. Burns!" Homer shouted as he hurried over to his boss. "No Mr. Burns, please wake up!" He paused for a moment and dug into Burns's pocket, fishing out his wallet. He searched through it but after finding no money, he tossed it aside and returned his attention to his boss. "Mr. Burns you can't do this to me! Please wake up!" He shook the elderly man but to no avail.

RING! RING! Homer quickly jumped to his feet and answered the phone. "M…Mr. Burns's office."

"Homer?" Smithers's voice came through the receiver.

"Ahh! Mr. Smithers! Why are you calling? I thought you were supposed to be out of reah until next week."

"I wanted to speak with Mr. Burns. Can you put him on the phone?"

"Ahh! Uh…well…you see. He… uh…can't because…"

"Is everything alright Simpson?" His voice was tinged with concern.

Homer tried his best to keep his composure, but the sight if his boss lying on the floor was too much for him and he broke down crying.

"Mr. Burns is dying Mr. Smithers!"

"What!"

"Yes it's true. He was diagnosed with radiation poisoning a month ago. The doctors gave him very little to live!"

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Smithers demanded.

"He didn't want you to know." Homer replied through tears. "He told me to keep it from you at all cost but now he's lying here on the floor and I don't know what to do!"

"Take him to the hospital, you buffoon!" I'll be there as soon as I can!"

Homer quickly hung up the phone and turned towards his boss. "Sorry sir but I had to do it. Smithers is the only person who'd ever care enough to help you." He picked the old man up and slung him over his shoulder. "I just have to keep you alive until he gets here." At that moment Burns slipped from Homer's grasp and tumbled to the floor. "Oops, sorry sir." Homer offered as he threw the old man over his shoulder once more. "Hopefully you won't remember that when you wake up."

 **0-0-0**

Maely sped into the airport parking lot and jumped out of the limo. He quickly scoped out the area before letting Smithers out. "You can never be too carful these days." The agent stated.

"Thank you for everything." Smithers offered.

"Well I wasn't supposed to send you back until next week but being that Haxen has been apprehended, I don't see the harm. Is he really that ill?"

Smithers nodded his head somberly. "It seems that way."

"Well good luck to you then. Send him my best. Thanks to him we were finally able to catch that rat."

Smithers nodded and dashed off into the airport as Maely waved goodbye.

* * *

 *****Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Thank you to all my readers for keeping up with the story. And a special thanks to all those who leave reviews, I really appreciate what you guys have to say. So as it turns out Smithers is alive and well but what else can be said? Not much because I don't want to give it away! Check out Chapter 8, which may be out sooner then usual and will also be my grand finale! :)**


	8. One Final Request

Disclaimer: The Simpsons is the sole property of its rightful owners Matt Groening and FOX. This is my interpretation of that world.

* * *

Burns's vision slowly came into focus as he awoke in a hospital room. "Where… where am I?"

"Mr. Burns! Homer exclaimed as he jumped out of a chair.

"Why did you bring me here?" The old man scolded.

"Oh, I don't know." Homer groaned. "It's just that for the first time I didn't want to see you die so I brought you here."

Burns sighed. "It's no use Simpson. My time has come." He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Homer suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders. "No Mr. Burns you can't go yet! Don't do this to me!" He yelled abrasively as he slapped Burns repeatedly.

Burns immediately slapped Homer's hands away. "Why you bumbling tub of lard! He grumbled viciously.

Homer briefly looked at the clock on the wall and then at the door. "Sorry sir I just freaked out…"

"Never mind that," Burns interrupted as he waved his hand dismissively. "Simpson, thank you. You've done well and I rarely say that to anyone."

Homer smiled at the rare compliment.

Burns grimaced for a moment with an intense pain. "At least I'm going out with a big bang."

"Mr. Burns!" Smithers burst through the door and stumbled into the room.

"Waylon?" Burns turned towards Homer and glared at him. "What is he doing here?"

"Sorry sir, I had to do it." Homer replied in fear.

Burns sighed in frustration. "Simpson, leave us for a moment."

"Yes sir." Homer said as he walked out the door.

"Mr. Burns, why didn't you tell me? Smithers stammered through tears. "We could have looked for a treatment together."

"Waylon, there's nothing to be done. I had to accept it myself after a certain point, you will too.

"No…"

"Hey I need you to keep the plant going."

"Don't say that sir. What would I do without you?"

"Keep those idiots in line. Just because I'm not going to be there anymore, doesn't mean they get to wander around, wallowing in their own stupidity. And for goodness sake, go live your life Waylon. It's about time."

Smithers smiled and nodded for it was all he could do to keep from crying. "Mr. Burns I …"

"I know Waylon, I know. "It's been…excellent old friend." He held out his hand and Smithers shook it gently.

"Likewise, sir." Smithers replied as tears ran down his face.

Burns smiled with relief as he closed his eyes for the last time.

"Mr. Burns?" Smithers called out. He quickly pulled the door open. Nurse, doctor, someone come quickly!" Homer rushed into the room as Smithers collapsed at Burns's bedside, sobbing uncontrollably.

 **0-0-0**

A week later Smithers sat quietly at Burns's desk in that now empty mansion. He barely noticed the handful of greedy people who sat before him, waiting to hear whether or not the elderly businessman had left them anything.

"Get on with it already!" A man's shrill voice broke through the silence.

Smithers gave him a cold glare but slowly opened the envelope he had found in that old World War II chest. He cleared his throat.

 _"_ _I Charles Montgomery Burns being sound of mind and body, hereby leave my extensive clothing collection to my college roommate and friend Philip Moorson, my many debts to my bloodsucking lawyers. And of course my mansion, estate, fortune and plant shall be awarded to my good friend, Waylon J. Smithers, Jr, who've I've always considered like a son."_

Smithers's eyes widened as he took notice of the date, a year before the accident where he lost his memory. "He cared all along. Maybe not in the way I would have wanted but I'll take it." Smithers whispered to himself.

"Is that all?" The same man asked irritated.

Smithers scanned the end of the letter and read it to himself carefully.

"… _oh and this is of the upmost importance. I need you to do one last thing for me Smithers…"_

Smithers smiled at Burns's last request. "Yes sir." He looked up from the letter and pressed a small button underneath the desk, which released the hounds.

"Ahhh!" The unwanted guests screamed as they bolted out of the mansion, desperately trying to keep from being mauled.

Smithers chuckled and went back to studying some paperwork Burns had left behind. He then came across that photo of himself with his father, Waylon Sr., and Burns. "Oh sir how am I going to do this all alone?"

"Excuse me?" Came a voice just outside of the room.

Smithers frowned. "Who is it?" He asked a bit annoyed at the intrusion.

The man suddenly came through the door. He was handsome and young, late twenties at the most. He had dark black hair that grew to the nape of his neck and was well groomed.

"Mr. Smithers is that right?"

"Um…yes. Who are you? Smithers stuttered.

"Look I'm not here to take up too much of your time." He sighed. "It's just that he insisted I be here. I don't know why; he's never bothered to reach out to me before. But who would have guessed his health would have taken a turn for the worst. Can I speak with him?"

"Who?"

"Your boss, Mr. Burns.

Smithers looked away.

"Oh, He's gone isn't he?"

Smithers nodded.

"I'm sorry for your loss." The young man offered empathetically.

"Thank you." Smithers replied with a smile.

"I suppose it's best I tell you that he begged me to come here so I could help you get the plant back on its feet. To be honest, I don't want anything to do with him." He paused for moment. "But it's not your fault your boss was the person he was. Anyway that's another matter; the point is I'm here to help you in any way I can. Though I can't stay too long, you see."

Smithers looked back at the photograph and noticed some writing on the back. " _Now you can't say I've never looked out for you. Here's your chance, don't blow it."_

Smithers gazed back up at the young man. "Wh…who did you say you were again?"

"Oh of course where are my manners. The young man stuck out his hand. "I'm Edgar Burns, Mr. Burns's nephew."

"Edgar? I haven't seen you in years! Smithers exclaimed. "You really grew up."

"I had to, after my father's death."

"I'm sorry." Smithers offered. "I still can't believe he refused to help you pay for the treatment. But he was a good man in the end."

"I rather not talk about it." the younger man replied "It's good to see you again Mr. Smithers."

"Likewise." Smithers replied as he shook his hand. "I look forward to working with you."

 **The End**

* * *

 *****Hello to all my wonderful readers. Thank you so much for following this story. I really appreciate the reception that it's had and thank you all for the input along the way. I really wanted to display scenes that could be seen on the show and stay as true as possible to the character's personalities as my storyline allowed so I hoped I achieved that. I hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to leave comments reviews and or questions!**


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